Moonsong Glacier Dreams of what I once claimed to know.

He trespassed. Alone. The glacier moaned its observation to a shard of drifting ice. The blood had been purged from the white; he was alone now, emptied, cold. We are fortunate we did not find his body, the ice said, but the voice was wrong. He has heard these words before - been here before.

True battle is new to you; you will be forgiven. It was his sister's voice; she wasn't here, he knew she wasn't... Was he dwelling on the past? His life drifting through his mind as a final reminder of all he had given up; was he going to die?

Wolves are different than prey. They are aware of their weakness. And so, do what they least expect, to start with...

Consciousness slips away. Comes and goes like the sweep of tide, as he dreams and he bleeds.